Inside the Demon King's Hall, beneath a vaulted dome carved with astrological charts, Hyperion wore a look of pitiful, innocent helplessness as she gazed at Caliera of the Fall, waiting for the ninth-tier great demon to speak.
Caliera did not mind the princess playing dumb.
It was merely a matter of laying things bare before the gathered great demons.
"Under ordinary circumstances, I would not press you. But at this moment, war could erupt at any time. The demon race may soon face a trial or a catastrophe, and we need a safeguard for the unsealing of the ancestral land," Caliera of the Fall said, her gaze fixed on Hyperion.
Her meaning was crystal clear: the princess needed to carry on the royal bloodline. Otherwise, if she were assassinated or met an untimely death, the ancestral land would remain sealed. Should the Blood Clan truly march against them then, the demon race would be left at a tremendous disadvantage.
Hyperion froze.
She had never imagined that this was Caliera's objective.
"Could you give me a little more time to think about it?" Hyperion asked.
"How long?" Caliera countered.
"A month and a half."
Hyperion tried to stall.
Once the forty-five-day limit of the Shadow World expired, she would slip away back to the mortal realm, and whatever happened next would have nothing to do with her.
"Out of the question. The Blood Clan has long sought to test us. They have proposed a marriage alliance between you and a Blood Clan Marquis as a condition for long-term peace. We can delay our response by a month at most. Having you choose a consort before then is also a way to protect you."
Caliera's faint smile hardened into a cold sneer, her tone turning grave.
If they acceded to the Blood Clan's demand, the demons would lose the means to unseal the ancestral land. If they refused, they would no longer be able to maintain their neutral stance.
In large-scale warfare, it was usually those who entered the fray last who reaped the spoils. If possible, the demons did not wish to join the battlefield just yet.
"Please cease your willful indulgence, Your Highness. Rather than hand you over to the Blood Clan, it is better that we take control of you ourselves. The only reason you still sit upon that throne is out of the last shred of respect I hold for an old friend."
The severe look on Caliera of the Fall's face sent a chill down Hyperion's spine.
The old friend Caliera spoke of was obviously the late Demon King.
Hyperion finally understood: the sole reason she still retained her royal status was that Caliera, acting as the guardian of order, upheld demonic decorum.
Yet as a ninth-tier great demon, Caliera's patience clearly had its limits.
"...In other words, I must make my choice within a month, is that right?"
Hyperion pressed her lips together, feeling trapped in an impossible predicament right from the start.
Still, she had heard from Antanas and the others that any betrothed of the Demon Realm's royal family had to be a great demon at the very least.
"Being as weak as you are, you have no right to choose. In the Demon Realm, it has always been the strong who choose the weak. You can only express your preferences, and under a fair process that satisfies the great demons of the Demon Realm, I will find the most suitable betrothed for you from among those who are interested," Caliera reminded her.
At a time like this, the demons could not afford internal strife, let alone provoke widespread outrage among the great demons.
As the princess's betrothed, one would gain considerable power. Whether they were fond of her or not, many great demons would likely covet the position—or even seek to become her master.
If Caliera simply appointed someone directly, it would not only violate demonic tradition, but also alienate the gathered great demons, breeding outward compliance and inward rebellion.
Moreover, Caliera was not the only ninth-tier great demon; others were stationed at the borders and had not attended. If she made an unfair decree, she would find it hard to hold them at bay in the name of demonic propriety.
"..."
Hyperion clenched her fists tightly.
There was no way she would marry some unfamiliar demon in such an absurd fashion.
Forcibly escaping the Demon King's Castle was impossible. At most, she had learned to slip away from her teacher, the Ice Snow Witch, but that trick would never work against a ninth-tier great demon like Caliera.
Her only option now was to put on an act and find a way through this crisis.
"I... prefer black hair... You have to find me a demon with black hair..."
Hyperion pouted and mumbled with great difficulty, stating her condition.
Her father, Mikhail, had black hair, so she was not lying.
She bolstered her courage inwardly.
"Hair can be dyed," Caliera countered calmly, dismissing hair color as an invalid criterion.
"Then... as for eye color, I'm inclined toward..." Hyperion clutched the fabric of her skirt and tried again tentatively.
"That can also be altered with magic."
Caliera cut her off before she could finish.
She found the princess's requirements bizarre, as though deliberately tailored to single out a specific great demon.
"My betrothed must be a light-attribute demon."
Hyperion's face flushed crimson as she lowered her head and mumbled.
She was a dark-attribute demon, so it was only natural to be instinctively drawn to light-attribute demons.
"You cannot restrict candidates by race. That borders on discrimination and would undermine internal cohesion at such a critical juncture. Besides, very few of today's great demons naturally wield the light attribute."
Caliera was growing impatient, suspecting the princess was merely making trouble.
She also had the inexplicable feeling that even facing a matter of life and death, the princess remained stubbornly defiant.
Finally, letting out an exhale, Caliera warned, "You may only stipulate conditions such as 'the demon of greatest martial might' or 'the demon of broadest erudition.' Based on such criteria, we will openly select the most fitting betrothed for you across the Demon Realm. Only then will it convince the public and persuade the Blood Clan that we haven't simply concocted a sham betrothal on short notice. If you make no choice, it will default to the strongest demon."
"..."
Hyperion was struck dumb. Her throat felt parched, and her heart pounded harder and harder.
Inside the solemn, oppressive throne room, the surrounding air seemed frozen in tension.
Perched upon the throne, Hyperion could feel the terrifying atmosphere that filled the hall.
It was not just the menacing mana radiating from the great demons. Beside her, Caliera—the only one explicitly willing to protect her—stood in silence, her gaze seemingly piercing through every pretense to probe the depths of her soul.
Hyperion could clearly tell that Caliera's patience was wearing thin.
Just as Caliera let out a helpless sigh and prepared to abandon any thought of honoring the princess's wishes—
"Then... I like demons with artistic talent! Is that acceptable? In one month, have the great demons paint, and whoever paints best, I'll marry him!"
Driven to her wit's end, Hyperion gritted her teeth and blurted it out.
Though saying such words filled her with utter mortification, it was the only idea she could muster.
"...That, however, is acceptable."
Caliera nodded, finding this condition far less unreasonable than the previous ones.
The Demon Realm's top painters could craft formidable magical tools, and their works possessed inherent magical properties. Their status was noble and esteemed, making royal favor entirely appropriate.
"I will also accept nameless great demons," Hyperion added.
"..."
Caliera was slightly surprised.
It seemed the princess was truly determined this time.
Caliera could understand her reasoning. Both the Demon Realm and the human nations indeed harbored hidden nameless great demons. Although they were dangerous figures, the Demon Realm valued merit above all right now. Drawing out a nameless great demon and bringing them into their fold would be a net gain with no downside.
"Understood. I will spread word of Your Highness's requirement far and wide to select the great demon who paints best. When the time comes, Princess, you must not go back on your word—otherwise, do not blame me if I can no longer shield you," Caliera replied with a bow.
"Fine by me."
Hyperion clenched her teeth and agreed.
She was not certain whether this desperate gamble would pay off.
In her heart, she could only pray again and again that in this era's Demon Realm, there was no demon who painted better than him—absolutely none.
Chapter 535